


and he told me i was ( H O L Y )

by morganelisabeth



Category: SEVENTEEN (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Angst and Feels, Angst and Porn, M/M, Porn with Feelings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-08
Updated: 2016-02-08
Packaged: 2018-05-19 01:13:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,868
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5950528
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/morganelisabeth/pseuds/morganelisabeth
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>S E L F I S H; lacking consideration for others; concerned with one’s own profit or pleasure</p><p>D E V I L; a mischievously evil or self-willed person; a wicked or cruel person.</p><p>soulmates au; the world is in monochrome until you touch your soulmate.</p>
            </blockquote>





	and he told me i was ( H O L Y )

_it was easy for him to get lost in the crowds. with his height, he was overshadowed and hard to keep your sights on. usually, he’d jab elbows to get back to who he had been dancing with, but tonight there was no such person. as if he were weightless, he passed through the crowd with no real goal in mind._

_he hadn’t a thought in his mind but to dance, to let the two glasses of liquor settle warm in the pit of his tummy until someone could ignite a true fire in him. his body bumped along the dance floor, not lasting too long in one spot before someone ebbed him this way or that._

_that was how he got away with swinging his hips about without a care as to who was watching, his eyes focused on nothing but the darkness around him, the deep grey outlines of smirking faces in the places that the strobe lights could not illuminate for him._

_he imagined what it would be like to see in color, to be like those people in love, and he imagined it quite often. would he enjoy this place more with the bright lights finally glowing in proper colors or would it make him sick to his stomach?_

_the worries of soulmates were pushed back just as a new track picked up; something slower, more desperate, something he could dance to. before he could find his footing from his last dance, he was swept into an embrace from behind, strong arms wrapped around his waist, settling palms against the tops of his thighs._

_enticed by the sturdy bundle of heat pressed against him, jihoon let his eyes slip shut, wrapping one arm around the stranger’s neck, fingers delving into silken locks, while the other hand settled on the one guiding his hips to the music._

_“you looked lonely over here,” the stranger’s voice is heavy in his ears but it is not unwelcomed and so his fingers wrap strands and tug to tell him to keep talking, “-- figured you’d enjoy some company.”_

_the boy’s hands coil tight into the fabric of jihoon’s jeans and a gasp leaves the shorter, nails digging against the top of the stranger’s hand there to settle him. he didn’t come to be someone’s toy for the night – all he wanted was a few drinks and a few good dances. not bothered by the sting of nails, the stranger’s mouth finds jihoon’s earlobe and claims it, the music hammering against his chest while his eyes fall shut._

_by the time they open again, there’s lips on his jaw and an aching burn from a bite near the crook of his neck, one that he obviously had no quarrels with receiving. a part of him wants more while the other just wants him._

_he hardly has time to register the influx of neon pink and green blaring in his face, bar signs above the island come to life, before the stranger is leading him by his fingertips, pulling him off towards the sidelines._

_his name was seungcheol; the boy makes him whimper it again and again like a sacred hymn for his ears only. his name was seungcheol and he gave jihoon the ability to see in color for the first time in his life. his name was seungcheol and they were **s o u l m a t e s**._

 

at times, the colors give him migraines.

it’s a huge change, going from black and grey to being able to see twelve shades of blue in one painting. he was amazed and terrified, unable to speak up when seungcheol’s dark eyes were focused on him, asking him what was wrong.

how could he just blurt it out?

_‘you’re my soulmate and i can see every shade of brown in your eyes.’_

the easy part was finding his soulmate. 

the hard part was trying to tell him.

jihoon slips through the motel room’s door and throws his coat up on the standing rack in the corner. it smells of stale smoke and bad decisions masked weakly by an off-brand scented spray. a royal blue and white comforter clashes with the faded maroon carpet but he can’t complain. it was the closest joint without ridiculous prices that served as a midpoint for both him and seungcheol to meet.

soft vibrations from the music in the room over tickle his fingertips, hands working sleeves up freckled arms, buttoning them over his elbow. wild thoughts bounce from one corner of his mind to the other, relentless; his eyes screw tightly shut, begging for a moment of peace before he dared venture any further. familiar chills along his arms, where he’d been touched and kissed and held, remind him of sweeter times.

if he were to turn back now, he’d never live in peace.

 

_his calloused hands hardly measured up to seungcheol’s – it still felt weird to know his name; the black haired boy could easily bend the tips of his fingers over to rest against jihoon’s._

_“you’re cute when you’re needy,” seungcheol coos, sinister and sweet, right against the shell of his ear. he can’t recall if he had taken a breath in the past five minutes but he assures himself he doesn’t need one._

_one firm press of his wrists against the cold tiled wall gives jihoon enough of an idea; no hands. seungcheol’s hot breath travels from his ear, to his neck, down to the base of his throat. he pauses with a throaty chuckle, peering up at an observing, doe-eyed boy._

_mildly irritated with the pause, jihoon curls his tongue against his teeth before responding; “what is it?”_

_“a button up?” there’s a press against jihoon’s chest, seungcheol yanking his eyes away and instead following the path of his own fingers down the shorter boy’s torso. “are you itching to make me work for it, then?”_

_the question goes unanswered and the fabric of jihoon’s shirt is ripped open from his body, dangling from his arms. broken buttons that had fallen from his shirt now clatter to the floor, rolling into the next stall over._

_the cold air hits against newly heated skin, racing up to awaken goosebumps across his arms, ones that still were held against the tiles despite no spoken commands to do so. seungcheol’s mouth finds jihoon’s left nipple first and he swears that fireworks went off behind his eyelids._

_steady thumps against his eardrum from the dance mix outside the bathroom melt with seungcheol mumbling against his abdomen, the bite of teeth on his hips now commanding attention._

_the pale haired boy grants his wish and regrets ever closing his eyes when he watches the way seungcheol’s wide hand steadies his lower body against the wall, yanks down his zipper and the fabric of his boxers, then proceeds to take jihoon into his mouth. it’s warm and welcoming; jihoon a lost soul finding sanctuary after years of aimless wandering._

 

two hours seem to pass like the snap of a finger. jihoon turns his phone around in his hands for the tenth time in a minute before his eyes fixate on the black screen.

he clicks the home button.

no new texts.

pulling up his messaging app, the date and time that his text was sent verifying the room number read almost three hours ago. the next text was a sweet reminder that he was eager to meet with seungcheol again.

another ten minutes pass before he texts him once again. it has been _three_ hours.

> ‘seungcheol, i’ve not heard from you. where are you?’

 

_two weeks had flown by so quick but every night with the black haired boy was a new adventure. he took care of jihoon in a way that he’d never been taken care of before – there were no words needed most nights._

_he just knew how and where to kiss him._

_tender fingers wrap around him and coax him even closer to his orgasm, sweet whimpers falling from his mouth before he could stop them. the room is a whir around him, the only thing stable is the boy above him, kissing the corner of his mouth, telling him he looked beautiful when he was saying his name._

_“seungcheol-“ he wants to protest, to shove him down and make him take the words back, but he’s too much of a wreck to do much of anything but whine._

_“just like that.” the older boy strokes him faster now, pressing his thumb against his slit while his nose outlines the curve of jihoon’s jaw. “so pretty from you, jihoon.”_

_the way his name sounds from seungcheol isn’t pretty – it’s sinful._

_nails rake up the other’s side and he feels his release coming on strong, his chest heaving. jihoon isn’t sure how his words sound by this point but he knows he asks him to kiss him._

_with their mouths pressed together, he comes in thick ropes, making a mess of his chest and seungcheol’s shirt, body trembling in the aftermath._

_and he hates how greedy he is while the other plants kisses against his chest, his neck. warmth blooms in each and every spot he touches. he keeps his arms wrapped firm around the other’s shoulders and refuses to let go._

_seungcheol’s cheeks are rosy, his skin glowing under a thin layer of sweat. jihoon is thankful he can see every tiny blossoming welt along the older boy’s back in the mirror in front of them, thankful that everything is in color._

_“it’s late, baby.”_

_“i know.”_

_jihoon sits up against the cheap wooden headboard and grabs for his shirt, long since discarded on the bedside lamp while his jeans and briefs lay in a pile at the foot of the bed._

_“can you not stay, just this once?”_

_“you know there is always the next time.” seungcheol sounds so assuring that he cannot argue._

_“then i will see you next time.”_

 

he never thought to ask seungcheol if it was the same for him: the pain of watching him leave. 

maybe it was because seungcheol was _always_ the one that left.

minutes after he sent his last text, his phone vibrates with a message from the other boy. not bothering to read the preview, he pulls up their conversation.

> ‘i thought we both knew this wouldn’t be a serious thing. i’m sorry, jihoon.’

once he reads it again for the twenty-fifth time, he finally realizes what it means, why he hasn’t shown up. none of the time they spent together mattered to him other than him not having to be alone.

jihoon’s chest constricts and he feels like someone broke each of his ribs one-by-one. something had to be wrong. definitely wrong. maybe he had misunderstood the text? he reads it again, for the twenty-sixth time.

 

emotions bubble to the surface; first it's hurt, then it's anger, then it's confusion. 

how could he have been so naive to think that this world worked _both_ ways in favor of people?

 

after four minutes of trying to hold himself together, he aks him one last question.

> ‘seungcheol, what color are my eyes?’

the response is almost immediate.

> ‘i don't know, you never told me.’

**Author's Note:**

> i honestly don't know how this happened i hope that you all can forgive my shitty jicheol and instead focus on how much i screwed up this sweet idea of sweet soulmates. i should be banned from fics for life. please don't hate me.


End file.
